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<title>Childhood Friend by Dark_and_night</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24906457">Childhood Friend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night'>Dark_and_night</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Boy (2016 Bell)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood Friends, Other, reunited</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:20:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24906457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You come back to the Heelshire mansion after Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire died.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Childhood Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The locals called it a very sad story. You were a local at one point, but hadn’t been in many years. The Heelshire home stood before you, old and abandoned. It was hard to believe that you used to play here every day. </p><p>	You walked up the steps, looking the house over. Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire had gone on a vacation and not come back, and after that the house had just stood there, a monument to the dead family. </p><p>	You had read about it in the paper, and decided to come back to give the house one last look. You’d moved away shortly after Brahms had died in that fire, and coming back made your heart tighten painfully. </p><p>	Everyone had always called Brahms a strange child (among worse things), but you’d never agreed with that statement. He just liked doing things a certain way, but you never minded when the two of you played together. </p><p>	The front door wasn’t locked when you tried it, so you simply let yourself in. </p><p>	The furniture was covered in white sheets, it looked like someone was getting ready for the house to be left alone for a long period of time. Already, a fine layer of dust was resting on the flat surfaces of the tables.</p><p>	You walked through the front room, looking around. It was sad to see such a fantastic place without a family living in it. God, you missed Brahms. He had been your very first best friend.</p><p>	A sigh escaped your lips, but that was quickly drowned out by the sound of something banging in the walls. Jumping back, you made a disgusted face, realizing there were probably raccoons or some other large animal infesting the house already.</p><p>	Well, as sad as all this was, that was enough nostalgia for one day. You weren’t staying in this place a moment longer for fear of getting rabies. </p><p>	Turning to the front door, you started briskly started to try and walk out when something heavy slammed into your side, knocking you to the ground.</p><p>	The breath knocked out of you as you hit the ground, the thing that had hit you was weighing down your chest. You tried batting it away, fearing it was a wild animal, when the thing on your chest shifted, looking up at you.</p><p>	Unmistakable green eyes stared back at you from behind a disturbing mask.</p><p>	“It’s you.” A child’s voice whimpered. It was a voice you recognized.</p><p>	“Brahms?” You gasped, not believing what you were seeing and hearing. You knew those eyes, you knew that voice that hadn’t changed over the years. What had changed was his body, he for sure wasn’t a child anymore, but it had to be Brahms.</p><p>	He nodded, reaching up and touching your face, unable to believe his eyes. Everyone was gone now, but not you, you were here.</p><p>	“But you’re dead.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”</p><p>	Brahms stayed on top of you, cupping your face, feeling you on his fingertips. “You’re staying here.” He nuzzled his face in your chest, feeling like he was going to cry. “You’re staying with me forever.”</p>
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